


Unconventional Bonds

by TechnoSkittles



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, RWBY RS WEEK, RWBY Relationship Week, beaconship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnoSkittles/pseuds/TechnoSkittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words." - Rumi / / My contribution to RWBY Relationship week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Herbalist

A partially gloved hand brushed aside the curtain of vines, revealing the open mouth of what seemed to be a cavern. The distant  _plip plopping_  of water echoed off the rock walls, the tiny  _pitter patters_  of little feet of the creatures who inhabited the cavern in between. Yang raised her torch in front of her, the light of her fire flashing on the damp walls, turning them a glistening gray-orange. She only spared one moment of hesitation, enough to inhale a calming breath before pushing past the curtain of low-hanging vines and into the cave.

Her soft-soled boots made no sound against the hard floor, only catching on the occasional stick, fewer and further between the deeper she travelled. As the bright daylight that streamed through the thick canopied forest grew distant behind, so did the twittering of birds and the buzzing of insects. Only the sound of dripping water and her own breath calling back to her from the dark confines of the cavern filled the silence. Her fire was the beacon of light and warmth as the cold tendrils of isolation and darkness snaked around her, catching her ankles and whispering in her thick locks of golden hair.

A sane person would've turned back by now. No, a sane person would've turned back long ago, before the cave even was giving the opportunity to swallow them up, erasing their existence from the rest of the world.

Yang considered herself a sane person and would've agreed with any who called her trek a rather reckless one. But she also considered herself a loving person and a caregiver and, in this circumstance as with many involving her little sister, her bleeding heart easily triumphed over her rational mind.

It was with this thought in mind that Yang pushed forward, concentrating on keeping one foot in front of the other and gaze straight ahead. She feared that if she dared a glance back, even if just to check her progress she would lose her resolve and, in turn, let down Ruby.

And so she kept her head held high, until the low dip of the ceiling forced her to hunch over. The rough surface of rock pressed down against her spine, scraping the skin beneath her thin travel jacket, digging into her shoulder blades. The walls on her sides narrowed, pressing closer to her and causing her to keep her elbows tucked to her waist. Soon enough the vice grip of suffocation took her, her breath drawing short and her muscles aching from being so cramped together. She eventually had to leave her torch behind, putting it out with a convenient puddle of water before abandoning it on the floor, its use to her now fulfilled. The darkness wasted no time, leaping that final bound to consume her to end its pursuit. The darkness wrapped around her, enhancing the feeling of suffocation and in a desperate attempt to avoid being crushed, Yang pressed her hands against the jagged edges of the wall, letting the cavern that was so intent on becoming the location of her tomb become her guide to the exit.

At least, a white disk of salvation reached her line of sight - first a mere pinprick, growing to the size of the pad of her thumb, and eventually the size of the moon, mid-rise into the night sky: the exit. The dark tendrils released their hold on her lungs, the walls softened their weight on her limbs as she grew nearer and nearer, the sweet dewy taste of fresh air beckoning her forward. In no time at all Yang had lunged through the hole, landing on her hands and knees on a smooth patch of stone as she regained her bearings.

Taking her time to adjust to the light and the wind that freely played with her hair, caressing her cheeks in a gesture of how much she was missed, Yang lifted her head to assess her new surroundings.

On the other side of the mountain that she had just crawled through, the forest continued on, trees sprouting and vines swinging, uninterrupted by the large pointed rocks jutting from the ground. This one wasn't nearly as dense as the one Yang had just come from, but still served a rather habitable and resourceful spot for any creatures that lived here. The ground past the slab of stone she sat on sloped downward, leading to a large circle of more clustered forest in the center. The slope circled around the range of mountains, lining the base of them with greenery and life, moss and vines clinging to their base, edging up in a feeble attempt to traverse them completely.

The range of mountains cut through this particular area without mercy, an exception to this rule the very place Yang was standing now. A line of them wrapped around the outer edges of this isolated forest, enclosing it in what Yang could only describe as a sanctuary. The sturdy rock acted as a barrier, effectively dissuading those who played with the inkling of an idea to discover and explore the little patch of forest, disrupting the harmony that lilted within in a demure tune.

From the vegetation in the forest below, filled to the brim with an assortment of plants and grasses to the isolation provided in the shadow of the towering mountains, one would find this an ideal place to practice their study in peace and quiet.

Particularly a study involving herbs.

To her right there was a set of stairs, narrow and crudely made being etched into the side of the mountain. Rubble and decay littered the steps, making them a questionable mode of transport that only those truly desperate would be advised to take them. Yang rose to her feet and dusted of the dirt from her hands and knees. Unfortunately for her, she was one of those desperate bastards.

The staircase wasn't very long, but they lasted much longer than Yang felt safe being on them, losing footing every so often and grappling on thin air to regain balance lest she want to fall to her doom to the very bottom of the forest floor. The leafy canopies looked soft enough to break her fall, but she had no intention to test her theory and decided to stick close to the side of the mountain.

She reached the top eventually, sweat beaded on her brow and lungs heaving. The decrepit stone staircase opened up to the flat top of an overhang. Up here there were glasshouses stationed on the edge, the best position to soak up sunlight. There were two, the larger of the duo situated further away where it took up a large portion of the back half of the overhang. It's wide stature was the first and easily most noticeable thing upon climbing up the many stairs, the slanting glass roof reflecting the sun just so that Yang could feel its warmth but avoided being blinded by its light.

To her left was the second greenhouse. It was as big as a decent-sized shack, but sturdier. Between these two houses was a simple rock garden, a small fountain sprouting from the center. Sitting beside the fountain was a dark man, hair as green as the herbs he now studied carefully before him, a necklace of tattoos around his neck.

Yang straightened up and strode forward, her pace quick and confident, her eyes determined and hard. This was the man she was looking for, the herbalist who could help her cure her sick sister.

He did not look up as she approached, but Yang could tell that he was aware of her presence by the way his hands absentmindedly continued the task before him, his shadowed eyes flitting between the open tome sitting on a stool beside him and the ground before her boots.

"My sister is sick and I need some of your herbs to help her get better."

Forward and to the point, just the way she liked it. However it seemed that the man did not share her views on this matter, the corners of his mouth pulling into a frown and his brow furrowing into the bridge of his nose. When he finally lifted his head to look at her, his small, golden eyes pierced right through her chest, sharp and insulted.

Yang coughed into her fist and shuffled her feet. "Please."

Her lackadaisical addition to her initial demand did nothing to soften his gaze, but did prompt him to set aside his work to meet her in height. This, of course, being said figuratively because when he stood it was very clear immediately that he easily had some inches on her. Now tilting her head back to look him in the face Yang felt more intimidated than ever, struggling to remind herself that this man was simply an herbalist. They were not ones for violence of anything of the related nature, opting to remain neutral if not downright peaceful. Just when she had comforted herself with this little tidbit her eyes drifted downwards, catching on the glint of a silver, ragged-edged blade sheathed at his hip, just underneath his white coat.

The blonde gulped, snapping her gaze back to his face, trying to push the sight of it from her mind. She had no reason to fear the man….at least that's what everyone had insisted when they told her of him.

After a few more seconds of their staring match, Yang realized that this would ultimately going nowhere and precious seconds were being wasted, seconds she could be using to return to Ruby, seconds that were currently being used to diminish her current health.

Trying another approach, Yang unclenched her jaw and softened her features, her eyes wavering as she looked up pleadingly at the dark-skinned man, finding his simmering golden eyes and locking them with her own.

"Please," she repeated in a whisper.

Whether it was her final plea that broke him down or his own volition Yang couldn't discern for he stood there a few seconds more, expression unchanging even in the face of Yang's desperation. But he did eventually move, shifting his weight backwards so he no longer loomed over her much shorter stature and turned to his side, picking up the tome in one large hand, balancing it on his palm. He waved his hand towards her, motioning her to follow as he began walking towards the larger greenhouse, its set of double doors wide open.

The previously hot and humid air gave way to even hotter and more humid air as they stepped inside the building. Yang could feel herself immediately break out into an intense sweat as they walked down the aisles of tables topped with different plants and herbs. She unzipped her travel jacket and pulled uncomfortably at the collar, hoping to rid herself of the stuffy feeling that filled her lungs up like cotton, doubling the effort to breathe.

In front of her the herbalist walked, cool and calm, probably used to this sort of environment by now. His white coat, open and baring his chest, made much more sense now. The tail of it billowed out behind him, catching on a breeze Yang desperately wished to reach her and cool her down.

"Symptoms?"

Yang snapped out of her self-wallowing, racking her melted brain as she processed his sudden and short question. "Um...burning fever but she still gets cold chills, upset stomach and vomiting sometimes, she gets tired a lot too….and she sometimes has these real awful coughing fits that tear her throat right up…" She trailed off, remembering the state her little sister was in, the dull, lifeless gleam in her eyes, the frailty of her bones, her ceaseless coughing fits that sometimes resulted in blood...Her eyes misted over and she raised a hand to one of them, catching the tear that threatened to fall. Ruby looked as close to death as one could get while still breathing and she had  _left her behind._

Pushing that thought from her mind with the reminder that she was doing it to  _save_  her, Yang cleared her throat, coming to stand next to the man who now was fingering a bushel of leaves poking out of a bed of dirt. "So you…you have something for her, right?"

He didn't answer her right away and although she had half the mind to ask again, this time more demanding and backed by her fire-licked hair, she restrained herself, thoughts flashing back to the knife holstered on his hip. She was confident enough in her skill as a fighter to not worry about losing to a knife, but it was more the man wielding it than the blade itself that she was wary of. So she pressed her lips together, keeping silent and waiting not so patiently as the sage haired man continued his inspection, molten eyes glancing back to his text every so often as if to confirm something.

She couldn't help but jump when he snapped his book shut with one hand. Standing to full height again he looked over to her, giving her a curt nod - the answer to her previous question. All sense of annoyance left her, leaving her light and feathery, like a bird ready to soar above the clouds. Her heart beat faster, unburdened with the lead weight previously resting there and her lungs expanded with a gasp of relief.

"Thank you." Her voice wavered and she took a moment to clear his throat, blinking back tears of gratitude before speaking again. "Thank you so much. She means the world to me."

He seemed to understand, or rather, Yang pretended that he did, because as before his expression remained unchanged. It was probably a normal thing for him, to keep the same face no matter the circumstance, so she didn't ponder it too heavily. After all, now that she knew that her trip here was not a lost cause, her only thoughts were getting back to her beloved Ruby and nursing her back to full health with a little extra help from the medicine this man would provide her.

A sudden weight dropped into her hands, bringing her back down, ripping her head from the clouds. Yang looked down, seeing the thick tome that the man was just carrying, quirking an eyebrow in question.

"Take this inside for me," he said softly, but the authority laced in those words hinted more towards a command than a request. "I will be inside shortly to provide you something to eat and prepare your bedding." He walked back over to the plants he was investigating earlier, plucking a few leaves from one of the bushels. "For now, you should rest. You have travelled far; you must be tired."

Yang scoffed and let the book hang carelessly at her side, propped on her hip. "Look, I appreciate the hospitality but I really need to get going back to my sister now. Just...wrap up those herbs and I'll be on my way."

Gold eyes shot towards her and Yang nearly lost her grip on the book. His eyes, so bright against his dark skin, were not easy to miss, and certainly more difficult to draw your attention from once you had caught sight of them. The look behind them was even more unnerving than their burning intensity.

"You misunderstand my actions as ones of hospitality." His gaze redirected to the herbs in his hand, recounting the leaves he had collected. "Your medicine will not be ready until morning. This is your only option." He walked past her to the other end of the greenhouse, his coat tail brushing her shin when he passed. "Unless, of course, you want to return to your sister without my herbs."

She stormed out of the greenhouse, book clutched tightly in her hands, the leather edges singeing in her unbound rage.

* * *

For someone who would supposedly be calm and insightful, a trait one would eventually pick up after years of isolation with only the occasional visitor, the guy sure was a prick. Sure, Yang hadn't given him the best of "hello"s either, but in her defense that wasn't an excuse to be all prickly with her.

But even so, the blonde had to (begrudgingly) admit, the dude had a nice set up. His abode was a simple one, something expected of someone who lived on the side of a mountain in the middle of a place invisible to the naked eye, but it's simplicity was not to be confused for lack of class or interest. It was no castle by far, but to call it a simple hut would be out of line as well.

The house was one story, plain with a flat roof placed off to the left of the large greenhouse, shoved as close to the wall of the mountain as could be without the two meshing together as one. Its exterior was made up of plain slabs of wood, a modern-day cabin. It wasn't very large, a small square that broke off into a longer rectangle towards the back, forming an "L" shape, the corner home to a patch of flowers, blocked off by small stones.

The inside mirrored the outside: simplistic in design and minimalist in just about everything else. The lack of furniture was unsettling, the place not really feeling like a proper home without a proper couch or armchair shoved off to one side, but Yang supposed that when you lived alone such things had no place in a home and would only serve as decoration. The thought sent a pang through her heart and, for the first time since her arrival, she felt a hand of sympathy reaching out for the herbalist.

What the house lacked in furniture it made up for in space. The first room she stepped into, his living room she presumed by the glass coffee table littered with crushed up leaves and plucked petals and opened books, wasn't very large but gave the impression that it was with the utter lack of...well, anything. In the center of the room was the coffee table, a single throw pillow, red and fraying, placed in front of it, facing the far wall that was bare and dry.

Yang frowned. Well, this place certainly seemed to reflect the owner's personality, she'll give it that much.

Setting the heavy tome down on the table she took a seat on the pillow, resting her head on her folded arms. She'd have to give him another thing too - she  _was_  pretty exhausted from her journey. And now, sitting comfortably on this pillow in the warm silence of his house made her awfully sleepy, her eyelids drooping with the weighted silence, and everything faded away….

When she awoke the sun had set, and she heard noise to her left - the telltale whistle of a hot kettle. Erectifying herself and stretching out the kinks in her joints, Yang let out a yawn. Her nap hadn't been a long one, thirty minutes at the longest, but it was enough for the stiffness to settle into her bones and the numbness to take her right arm and hand. Shaking the useless limb vigorously, rubbing it to regain feeling which came in a rush of pinpricks and static, Yang stood from her seat, shuffling over quietly to the kitchen. Standing over a low, wood-carved table was the herbalist, pouring steaming hot water into two short wooden cups then dropping small leaves into the drink; Yang could smell the mint from her place in the doorway.

Crossing the miniscule distance between them and standing next to him, Yang happily picked up one of the cups with her left hand, the heat seeping through the wood into her fingers. She lifted her cup, a smirk on her face with a quiet "Cheers!" before lifting it to her mouth, downing it all in one go, leaf and all. When she lowered her cup she revealed the stunned expression of the herbalist, not quite as comical as she had hoped, but a nice change of pace from his neutral expression earlier.

And, just for kicks, she pursed her lips, blowing out a small dose of fire, followed by a thin trail of smoke.

"What can I say? Heat's kinda my thing."

Instead of humoring her with an answer as she had hoped, the man simply blew on his own tea before taking a careful sip. She let it pass though, satisfied enough with his earlier reaction. Hopping up on the table and crossing her legs, chest thrust forward and blonde curls falling down her back, she offered up a sweet smile, blindly hoping that her posture and demeanor would invoke a response from him, if not at least a reprimand for her to get off his table.

But he remained stoic and silent, as to be expected. It was kind of getting on her nerves, but a quick refresher of earlier in the greenhouse reminded the blonde that just about everything this guy had done so far today had done the same.

The silence remained over them, further dissolving the bliss gained from Yang's catnap. Just as the man finished with his tea, she hopped off the table, making her way back to the living room to do...something.

When he returned later again that night Yang found herself counting the pages of the large tome again, having lost count twenty minutes prior when her mind had wandered back to home, to Ruby. She perked up upon hearing his entrance, not necessarily glad that he was back but that now she had something else to do other than count pages that were already numbered.

A head of green hair appeared in the doorway, drenched with moisture and if Yang listened closely, she could hear the soothing quiet of the  _pitter patter_  of soft rainfall. Water beaded down his neck, rolling along his collarbone to his chest, pooling in the subtle abs imprinted on his skin. His white coat was removed, his bare skin finally naked and free, the groves of his chiseled muscle glinting in the low light of the house.

Yang quirked an eyebrow and smirked to herself. He wasn't much of a conversationalist but at least she could ogle him to her heart's content.

Without even bothering to find something to dry himself with he stepped into the living room and Yang moved aside, letting him take her previous place on the pillow. Silently he opened one of the books in the stack to his right, setting it right on top of the already opened ancient tome that Yang had been flipping through, and settled down to read. He procured a pen and notebook, scribbling notes in the margins of the book and crookedly on the lines of the notebook, going back and forth in his mad dash to record...something.

Yang watched all of this from the side, hands resting in her lap, lilac eyes following every stroke of the pen. They sat there silently, Yang basking in the presence of her host, said host absorbed entirely in his small flames dancing on the wicks of the two candles he had laid out on the table shed just enough light to illuminate his work, an orange glow cast across the pages and aging them beyond their years. He worked diligently, his golden eyes focused, his hand steady as it scrawled notes, his breathing calm and regular, almost as if he were asleep.

She watched him work in fascination, almost forgetting the reason she was here in the first place. He wasn't doing anything particularly interesting, but it was in watching the rhythm of his motions that mimicked the spinning hands of a clock that allowed her to easily pass time, calming watching the hands spin, calming watching his hand glide, his eyes shift, his chest rise and fall. Like clockwork, she found it luring her into a gentle state, bordering the lax of sleep but granting her the attentiveness of being awake.

The question passed her lips without a thought.

"Do you like it? Living here alone?"

And like clockwork, his motions did not cease nor falter, but remained steady and timed, keeping to the rhythm that sang to her like a lullaby, keeping her at ease. "Sometimes it is nice."

She blinked lethargically and brought her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "And sometimes it's not?"

This time he didn't answer, only glancing up at her huddled form beside the table, briefly disrupting his routine before falling back into it seamlessly. He worked like this for a few more minutes, and Yang could feel the haziness of sleep creeping up on her. So she began to hum in the hopes it would keep her alert, her concentration on carrying out a mindless tune requiring her to, at the very least, stay awake, even though her eyelids drooped halfway down. Her humming did not startle her companion, but it did catch his attention if his sudden shift of movement were any indication. And so they sat there, Yang humming her tone while the herbalist scrawled and scribbled, dashing out lines of notes and hastily writing replacements. This continued until the candles had burned halfway down, copious amounts of wax dripping down the sides, the flames dancing vivaciously, knowing their days were numbered.

By this time Yang was still humming, her tune slower with many pauses before she remembered to pick it back up. A wide-set hand rested on her shoulder and with bleary eyes she looked up to see that headful of green hair and those golden eyes looking down on her.

"It is time for you to rest. You have a long journey home in the morning."

She didn't bother to argue, not that she really wanted to either. With the help of her host she rose to her feet, patting down the wrinkles in her clothes before letting herself be led down the hallway to what she assumed was the back of the house, the one nearest the wall of the mountain. There he presented to her the room she was to sleep in for the night, small and plain, a simple, thin mat laid out in the middle of the floor. Yang fell upon it immediately, hardly noticing the lack of padding it provided, and fell asleep in a single breath.

* * *

The next morning the ground was damp and the forest below smelled of dew and musk, coating the air in its sickly sweet scent. The air felt more humid than it had the day before, but this time a chill accompanied it, the sun not yet at its full height to provide its full potential of heat. A soft mist hung in the air, wafting around trees and vegetation, hanging low near the base of the mountains, swirling with the air currents.

Yang rose early, neck stiff and back aching, suddenly regretting sleeping on the thin mat as she had. But she brushed her discomfort aside, favoring instead to dress as quickly as possible and rushing through the house to the front door, jogging over to the large greenhouse that overlooked the precipice that loomed above the forest pooled below them. The doors were open as they were yesterday and when she entered she saw the dark man scooping a pile of crushed herbs into a wooden container, small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. After securing the lid he turned and handed it to her, offering instructions on what to do with it after she returned to her ailing sister.

With a hearty "thank you" and vibrant smile, Yang took a step back, offering a shallow bow to the man before bouncing back up, bubbly and full of energy as ever. Now that she had received what she had come for she could return to Ruby and aid her back onto the path of good health. Giving a slight wave of her hand Yang turned and jogged back through the greenhouse, only to pause with her hand on the door and throw a glance back over her shoulder.

"Your name." Molten eyes blinked at her. "What is it?"

"Sage."

Yang nodded to herself, mouthing the name and feeling the way her tongue rolled with the absent sound. With another grin she turned back to face him, backing slowly out the door and into the rock garden.

"My name is Yang! Thanks for all your help!"

And with a dash back into the house to grab her things, tucking the container carefully away, Yang sprinted down the steps, a large grin on her face and an extra lift under her feet.


	2. Dancing Away Debt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang owes Junior after the damage she did to his club and ends up getting a little something out of it herself.

The bass reverberated in her chest, rattling her ribcage and jostling the organs encased in it. The roving spotlights hooked to the catwalk suspended over the dancefloor passed her in a glance, illuminating her features briefly before darting to another part of the room, taking its light with it. Holographic rose petals floated in the air, waving and drifting as though they were real and, if not for the fact that she had a little sister who excreted them on a daily basis whenever she got overexcited (which was nearly all the time), Yang would've been fooled into thinking they were the real deal.

That and the fact that the first time she was here she was the one who broke the machine that projected them.

In her peripheral vision she caught a sudden motion, a man a few tables over waving his empty shot glass in the air. Sighing, Yang made her way towards the man, tucking the round black tray underneath her arm and tucking her notepad into the front pocket of her red apron wrapped around her waist. On her way to the table she stepped over puddles of spilled alcohol and squeezed past a cluster of chairs, exuberantly intoxicated people seated in them, oblivious to her passing. It was rather difficult, her assets getting caught or roughly brushing against the back of one of the chairs or, worse, the back of someone sweaty man, but she made it nonetheless. Ignoring the look of annoyance the man with the empty shot glass shot her upon her arrival, she offered a sweet smile, picking up the glass and, with a wink and cock of her hip, promised another one straightaway. Her words (along with the extra sway of her hips as she turned back to the bar) tided the man over, leaving him content for the time-being while she rushed off to refill his glass.

"Another round of scotch on the rocks!"

While she waited for her order she shuffled off to another table, this one close enough to the bar so she could go and pick up the glass when it was ready, to ask the patrons seated there on their status. Flirty winks and high-pitched giggles were dished out in response to their slurred praise, of both her service and her body. Reminding them that she was available whenever they had a need for her she backed away from the table, grimacing at the shared joke at the table of how they "needed" her.

Lilac eyes rolled to the ceiling as she picked up the shot glass, sashaying back over to the table with the man from before. He nodded at her with a smile and Yang fought the urge to rip his eyes from his sockets when she saw them drift downwards. She walked away from the table back to the bar, ignoring some of the men calling for her assistance when she saw another one of the waitresses emerge from the bar, a stout woman with a black hair tied into a bun and freckled shoulders, azure eyes urging her to take a small break. She happily obliged, offering her own look that wished the woman good luck before disappearing behind the bar and through the door that led to the kitchen.

Once she was safely behind the door she kicked the wall, eyes flaring red and the tips of her golden hair alight with fire. She knew the chefs were watching her, but then again they were used to this sort of behavior by now, even going as far as to sympathize with her.

"Pigs! I'll burn every single one of them!" Another kick to the wall, this one causing a crack in the tiling.

"And then that'll be more damage to my club as well as court costs for when they sue my ass." Yang looked up from her tirade against the wall, eyes still red and burning. "And then that'll be more money added to your debt, which means you'll just have to work here even longer." Junior leaned against the sink, hands reaching up to pull on his red tie. "And I want you here even less than you wanna be here, Blondie."

Yang gave a sharp laugh, the blood color in her eyes never fading. Her fists clenched by her sides and the fire in her hair flared hotter, rivaling the already heated kitchen. "And just  _what_  have I said about calling me that?"

The club owner straightened up, pulling too tightly on his tie, constricting his windpipe. He yanked on the loop, loosening its grip around his neck, and coughed. "S-sorry, Sir!"

Nodding in satisfaction, Yang relaxed, letting the tension from earlier leave her body as the fire died down, the red seeping back to her normal purple. She turned around and pressed her back against the wall, propping up her foot to catch her and crossed her arms.

"How many more nights do I have?"

Junior scratched his bearded chin. "Well, at the rate you're receiving tips, I'd say you only have….five more nights at the most."

Yang groaned and hung her head. "Five more nights?"

"You could drop it down to three if you really work it." He shrugged and mirrored her, crossing his own arms. "Maybe show off a bit more skin?"

The raging heat inside her ignited again, her eyes edging dangerously towards red when she whipped her head up to meet his gaze. He shrunk under the heat of her glare, stance slouching in uncertainty. The victory was small, but she'd take it.

"If I show anymore skin I'd get arrested for public nudity."

And that wasn't entirely an exaggeration. From her skintight shorts that didn't even peek out below her waist apron to her crop top with a low neckline, there wasn't much that she was hiding from the male gaze. It helped often with generous tips, but did nothing to protect her against perverse touches or bold grabs. If she had her way, all of them would've lost their hands and choice other parts of the human anatomy.

But, as Junior had so helpfully pointed out, doing so would only prolong her torture. So she played a good girl for the time-being, offering sweet smiles to their perverse grins and playfully oblivious giggles whenever their hands drifted to a most definite  _no-no zone_.

Weiss would be proud of the self-control she was practicing...that is if her teammate even knew about this whole predicament to begin with. She made sure not to tell either her or Ruby, deciding it best to keep it her little secret. It was temporary, so she didn't feel too guilty, and this way it was just easier all around.

Especially with Ruby. It'd be pretty hard to explain where she disappeared to in the dead of night every night, and harder to explain what she was doing when she left on her midnight excursions.

The only one who knew was Blake, and that was only because the girl was too perceptive for her own good. Nothing got past her faunus teammate. But, in all honesty it was a relief to share with somebody her current situation, especially when that somebody helped cover for you with well-crafted lies and sly winks when the other half of their team turned their backs.

Best partner ever.

However, not even the best partner ever could magically wipe away her debt, so she had to work here in order to repay it. It was true that she could've gone elsewhere to earn some cash, but would only take a week at Junior's club would take months anywhere else. So, going with the more progressive option, Yang had asked for a job here.

The man had been reluctant, not that Yang could entirely blame him since she was the one who wrecked his club and suffocated his crotch on their first meeting. But after a little persuasion, stating that he'd get his money a lot faster if she worked here, he broke down.

After a few basic training tips she began waiting the tables, keeping the drunk patrons happy and, an ironic turn of events,  _preventing_  violence. It was an easy enough job in theory, but once she actually began working at the bar she realized there were a few factors that Junior had gracefully left out.

Like the staring, the touching, and - worst of all - her ruined alcohol-soaked shoes.

Junior scoffed beside her. "You're just lucky I didn't have you arrested for property damage and assault and battery."

Yang chuckled and propped herself off the wall, walking back to the door leading to the bar. "You're just as guilty of a little battery as I am,  _Junior_." Before he could put another word in she had disappeared back out into the club, the deafening techno beats engulfing her body and pulling her back into the fray.

The club owner shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's it. After this is over, I am  _officially_  banning her from stepping foot on this premises." But in the back of his mind, he knew that when it all came down to it, they'd need a full-fledged army and a couple of tanks to keep her away.

Or, at the very least, occupied so he could escape out the back door.

* * *

In her short time working at the club, Yang had become pretty good friends with the DJ. Admittedly, they did get off to a pretty rocky start when he recognized her as the one who sent him skyrocketing through the air after a shotgun punch to the gut but she digressed. His fear of her soon went away, leaving a mutual comfortableness, and before the club opened each night she would sit up with him on his elevated post above the dancefloor, listening to him mix tracks and go through playlists. Every now and again she'd even offer her input, saying what tracks mixed well with others, what transitions he should make into different songs, and what kind of mood he should go with overall for the night. It might've been her pride talking but she'd say that he actually appreciated and valued her opinions.

It was another one of those times and while the DJ fiddled with his tables and controls, she sat next to him on the table, nodding her head to the beat. Behind her Junior's grunts were setting up the rest of the club, moving tables and chairs, checking lights and projectors. The Malachite twins were running behind them, correcting them harshly with their high-pitched voices that grated on Yang's ears. But, luckily for her, she was close enough to the speakers that they were drowned out by the vibration of the bass.

Her back straightened when she recognized the song the beat had transitioned to and snapped at the DJ, getting his attention. "Keep it on that!" she mouthed. He nodded in agreement, adjusting the sound and bass to get the best sound possible. While he continued messing with his tables Yang jumped down from her perch, and began swaying her hips, mouthing the words to the song.

She lost herself to the music, not caring now that the DJ might be giving her strange looks or that the Malachite twins were watching her with narrowed eyes. It was going to be a long night and if was going to let off some steam, now would be the time. Anything to keep her from punching the next dude who looked at her wrong square in the face.

However, what Yang didn't notice is that her dancing had attracted more than strange looks. Some of the grunts below even paused in their tasks, watching her sway and bounce to the music, arms pumping and hips circling. She didn't notice them follow her motions, their eyes drifting to her bouncing curls that flowed with her movements and how, in just the right lighting they glowed. She wasn't aware of their open stares or their impressed nods. To her there was just the music and her, her and the music.

And she most certainly was not aware of a certain club owner watching from his place behind the bar, brows drawn together in thought.

* * *

"You want me to  _what_?"

After the song had ended and her dancing tirade was over, Yang had settled back onto her perch to continue her conversation with the DJ before one of the grunts came up for her, saying that Junior wanted her  _stat_. With a groan and a wave to the DJ, she followed him down to the bar where she saw Junior standing behind the bar, arms crossed and watching her carefully as if she might make a bolt for it. Which was a rather tempting idea but she  _did_  still have money she owed and know she wouldn't make it very far. Still, she couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling festering in her stomach, wondering what she had done wrong this time.

She took a seat on one of the barstools, leaning on her forearms against the counter and quirked an eyebrow, an expression that asked "What did I do this time?".

It was then that he made her a new offer, one that made her jaw drop and her mind grind to a halt as she processed what was being said.

Junior leaned forward, his hands on the counter. "I'm just askin' for one night, Blon- err….Sir." He shrunk back to put distance between himself and the red-eyed girl. "Just, go up there and do what you were just doin'. The crowd'll love it."

Yang crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "The  _men_  will love it."

He waved away her comment. "Same thing, whatever. Look, I'm just saying, it might bring more people and with more people…"

Yang narrowed her eyes and nodded. "More people means more tips."

"Now you're thinking."

The blonde swiveled in her seat and leaned her elbows against the counter. "So...what? I dance up top for a bit and then just come back down here to wait tables again?"

Junior nodded. "And if you're lucky some people will notice and be willing to tip you a little more...generously."

Which meant that this was her ticket to getting out of her sooner rather than later.

Yang threw Junior a smirk and tapped her hand against the counter. "Okay, deal. But!" She rose a single finger in the air and leaned forward, smirk growing at the cautious glare sent her way. "If I go over what I owe you, I keep the money."

To this he rolled his eyes. "As if you'll go over."

She didn't answer, simply sliding off the barstool and walking past the bar to the backroom to get dressed back into her normal clothes. She knew that he was watching her as she walked and made sure to add an extra swing to her hips, pointedly strutting with everything she had. Her hand ran through her hair, tossing it over her shoulder in an exaggerated flip, letting it swing behind her in time with her hips.

"Just you watch, honey."

* * *

The room was dark when she slipped in, its inhabitants all sound asleep. Careful to keep quiet, Yang tiptoed across the room, storing her wad of money inside her pillowcase for safekeeping. It wasn't that she didn't trust her teammates or was worried that they would steal from her, but rather that she wanted to keep it a secret. No, surprise was a better word for it.

After making sure that her money was secure, she began to strip herself of her clothes, nose wrinkling at the rancid odor of booze and the bitterness of cigarette smoke. It was an awful smell that polluted the whole room if she left it unattended, driving her to cover it with a LOT of air freshener. But thankfully it would no longer be a problem after tonight. She smiled to herself at the thought, remembering Junior's dumbfounded face after she revealed the abundance of tips she had received that night, enough to finish paying him back  _and_  have a little extra cash for herself.

She had walked out of that club, head held high, hips swaying tauntingly, and a stash of money tucked into her bra.

Good riddance.

"Home late again?"

The blonde brawler jumped, a small squeak of surprise squeezing past her lips into the silent room. Next to her glowing amber eyes watched her with disinterest, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Assuring herself that it was only Blake, Yang calmed down before offering a smirk of her own. "Yep, but I don't think it'll be a problem anymore after tonight." Even though it was dark she sent her partner a wink, knowing that with her enhanced night vision the faunus would see it.

Blake frowned. "Yang please tell me you didn't burn the place down."

"For once I  _didn't_. It was still standing when I left it." She stuck out her tongue and pulled her tank top over her head, vowing to take a shower in the morning when it wouldn't be a disruption. Thankfully it was the weekend as well, so even when the awful scent of the club seeped from her hair into her sheets she'd be able to wash it right out after some laundry.

"I just did a little extra something to earn some extra money, easy and quick," she said proudly.

However Blake didn't share the same sense of pride. Instead her eyes widened in alarm and the blankets underneath her shifted when she bolted up into a straight sitting position. "Yang you didn't!"

Yang quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't what?"

There was a pause as the brunette shifted uncomfortably, kneading her blankets with her knuckles, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. Her shoulders hunched until they practically touched her ears and her head ducked down nervously. It wasn't often that Yang saw Blake act so shy and embarrassed because there were few things that could break her otherwise neutral exterior. For example whenever Yang was a little  _too_  flirty, using innuendos….

Yang lunged forward and gripped Blake's shoulders, shaking her slightly to get her to look up. "No! No no no! Nothing like that! I just danced!" When she saw the steady pink blush on her partner's face darken she realized her mistake. "No not like that either! Like...on stage!  _Clothes on_!" she quickly added, seeing Blake look more and more horrified with each word she uttered.

Yang groaned and dropped her hands from Blake's shoulders, lifting them up to hide her face. "I'm….not helping my situation, am I?"

Amidst her self-loathing she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Peeking out between her fingers she saw Blake give her a wobbly smile, the blush faded back to a light pink.

"Start from the beginning?"

Yang nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."

* * *

A loud piercing squeal erupted in the freshman dorms, startling all those who inhabited it or walked its halls, tensing for a second on instinct before relaxing after they recognized who it belonged to.

In Team RWBY's dorm Yang brought her fingers out of her ears and nudged Blake to uncover her cat ears. Weiss, however, was totally unprepared for the onslaught to her precious ears and still cupped her hands over them, an icy glare directed to the only member of their team unfazed by the noise - the one who had caused it.

"Yang you are the best big sister  _ever_!" Ruby exclaimed, zipping over to pull Yang into a hug but ended up hanging on her like a koala instead.

Yang smiled and patted her little sister on the head, a great sense of accomplishment washing over her. "Happy birthday, Sis!"

Stacked in one half of the room was a multitude of white boxes, each adorned with a baby pink picture of a cupcake and cursive black script underneath reading "Sweets 'N' Things". And in each box held something more precious to Ruby than life itself: a dozen chocolate chip cookies. With the fifty or so boxes in the pile, there was well over a hundred cookies to keep their young leader happy for a week. Tops.

After the red-cloaked huntress dashed over to the boxes of cookies, ripping one from the stack and digging into it immediately, inhaling the cookies so fast that it was humanely impossible, Weiss stepped over to Yang's side. Her blue eyes were weighed with a sense of dread, the bags underneath her eyes already forming.

"You've doomed us all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I drifted a little bit from my main pairing for this day but eh I think it's alright. I just really wanted to get those last bits in.
> 
> Poor Weiss.


	3. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velvet’s short stature proves to be a rather pressing problem to her this past week, but she never thought it would lead to her breaking into some guy’s car.

The can was just out of reach, the bottom dancing at the tips of her fingers but not quite. Even standing on the tips of her toes, hand on one of the lower shelves to steady herself, she couldn't touch it. Sighing in defeat, Velvet dropped back to her normal height with a flop, crossing her arms and glaring at the triumphant can.

She could go without broth tonight and find an alternative to the soup dinner she had planned. But still, it was a shame. She'd been looking forward to it all week.

Then an arm stretched out by her face, reaching up to the spot she was just striving for with ease. A second later the hand lowered in front of her, having procured the broth necessary for her stew.

Velvet glanced up to the owner of the helping hand, finding it attached to a beach blonde man who easily had a few inches on her. His grey eyes winked down at her, white teeth flashing her a brilliant smile. She gave him a nod and tucked the can close to her chest.

"Thank you."

He waved her off. "It was nothing. Can't stand to see a pretty lady struggling."

The brunette rolled her eyes. So he was one of  _those_  guys. Suddenly she felt less grateful towards him and turned to toss the can heartlessly into her cart, wondering if this was all truly worth it. Getting a grip on the handle she began to walk down the aisle, in the opposite direction, before she heard him call out to her again. Knowing that she'd probably end up regretting it, she paused in her escape, throwing a miffed glance over her shoulder through her curtain of hair.

He jogged back over to her, that charming smile still present on his face, and Velvet focused on keeping every ounce of her in check before she decked him in the jaw. She may be petite and unable to defeat a simple high shelf, but she was by no means weak or afraid to put an overeager guy into his place.

"Soooo...you like soup?" he tried, scratching the back of his neck.

Oh she definitely did not have the time for this.

Without another word she took off down the aisle, not giving him the satisfaction of looking back. She paid for her things, scaring the cashier with her withering glare when she handed him her card to pay for her groceries, and left the store, putting as much distance between her and that man as possible.

If she was lucky, that would be her first and last encounter with him.

* * *

Within the same week she once again encountered her old enemy, the bane of her existence, the cause of her inevitable downfall…

The high shelf.

For her history class her professor (whom she wondered how he ever sat still long enough to get his teaching license with how much coffee he drank and how much he zipped about the classroom) had assigned them to write an essay about one of the less world renown aspects of World War II, an assignment that would require heavy research on the student's part instead of going to Wikipedia and copying down the first facts that caught their eye.

So here she was, in the library, desperately reaching for a book just out of her reach. Her eyes felt swollen and her mouth tasted burnt; she had been solely relying on coffee as a supplement for sleep, doing extensive hours of research the night before. She found quite a lot of facts and information, but not nearly enough to write a report, and decided to check out the campus library. The books there didn't have too much to go off of either, so she took the shuttle to town to visit the main library, knowing that they were bound to have something.

And they did. Just not something she could reach.

After struggling for a solid minute, the petite brunette gave up, shoulders slouching as she was defeated because of her height for the second time that week. She turned to walk out of the aisle, hoping to find one of the library assistants to help her retrieve the book. Or at least, that was the plan until she ran into something hard and fleshy, nearly knocking her off balance. As she straightened herself out she opened her mouth and began apologizing profusely in hushed whispers, only for the words to shrivel and die on her lips when she noticed that white, cheeky smile.

"We have  _really_  got to stop meeting like this." The blonde man reached up, plucking the exact book she had been trying for, holding it up like some sort of prize.

Velvet sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Thank you. Again." She reached up to take the book from him, only for it to be yanked out of her reach once again, just above her head.

"Hey! What gives?"

The blonde grinned down at her, wiggling the book just out of her reach again before leaning forward so that his face was right next to hers.

"Go on a date with me."

She planted her hands firmly on his bare chest - what kind of person walked around with their shirt unbuttoned? - and gave him a rough shove, not hard enough to cause him to stumble but enough to make him take a step or two back to give her some space.

Her brown eyes narrowed up at him, challenging his dark gray ones.

"No."

Before he could open his mouth to convince her further she dug the heel of her foot into his toe before jabbing her elbow into his stomach, her other hand behind it to give it more power and keep it steadier. The assault had the effect she had wanted; he immediately dropped the book in order to cradle his now injured stomach, huffing out a rough wheeze while doubling over.

Calmly, Velvet picked the book off the ground and turned on her heel, walking back the way she came to the table where she had left the rest of her materials.

Behind her she heard the soft voice of one of the library's assistants asking the man if he was alright, but was too far away to hear his wheezing response.

* * *

The fresh night air was there to greet her when Velvet left the library, but unfortunately she was in too much of a hurry to sit there and enjoy it. The next shuttle to take her back to campus would be there in no more than ten minutes and she had at least five blocks to walk to get to the station. It'd be a race against time and her own legs, but the brunette prided herself with being rather quick when she wanted to be. Still, it would be a bit of a stretch, and she wasn't looking forward to spending half an hour at the station until another came to pick her up. With her report finished and edited she had no more homework for the night and was intent on passing out as soon as she reached her dorm room.

She checked her watch. Nine more minutes.

 _If_  she made it to her dorm room.

Breaking out into a brisk pace she walked through the parking lot, clutching her bag tightly to her side so it would bump against her legs too often as she walked. She had nearly made it to the sidewalk when she heard a loud curse, startling her to a complete halt. Daring a glance back, she saw that same man, the one with blonde hair and a brilliant smile, wrestling with his car.

Or rather, playing a game of tug of war. One half of his shirt was caught in the closed door, trapping him there while he attempted to gently pull it free in order to avoid tearing it. Velvet watched in in dumbfounded wonder, asking herself what idiot got caught by their own car.

As if noticing her stare he chose that moment to look up at her, their eyes locking for a brief moment. His face flushed red and he ducked his head down, rubbing the back of his neck nervously while avoiding her gaze.

"Not….one of my best moments, I'll admit."

Velvet smirked and crossed her arms. "Just like getting taken down by someone seven inches shorter than you?"

The man laughed, and against her will Velvet decided she liked the sound of it. "No I'd definitely have to say this ranks second to that." His laughter ceased and he offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry about earlier. Sometimes I just get a little...overexcited."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Overexcited?"

And again with that dazzling smile. "Well, yeah. Whenever I see a pretty girl I tend to start acting a bit out of line."

The beginning warmth of a blush rose to her cheeks, but she shook it away and looked at the watch on her wrist. Seven minutes. She frowned and glanced back up at the man, going back to trying to pull his shirt out of the door.

"Keys locked inside?"

His nervous laugh answered the question for her.

"Have you tried….taking off the shirt?"

He straightened up, brow furrowed in thought before looking down at his bare chest, then the door, as if the idea had never occurred to him. And, when Velvet thought about it, it probably hadn't. Shrugging the shirt off his shoulders he escaped the grip of his car door at last, whooping in victory. It was short-lived however, when he realized that he was still locked outside of his car.

Now with the shirt off, the view of his muscled chest with completely unobstructed as well as the muscles in his arms….and his back…

The blush returned to Velvet's face full force, hitting her with an intense heat that burned against the cool night air. Thankfully it was pretty dark outside, so maybe he wouldn't notice.

She checked her watch again. Six more minutes.

Well, there was no way she was making it to the station on time now. And now with her time freed up, she decided that now it was  _her_  turn to help  _him._  Sifting through her bag she located her nail file, grabbing it firmly in her fist and striding forward to where the blonde man was staring puzzled at his car as if doing so long enough would magically gain sympathy from it and it would unlock itself.

"Move aside."

When he did as told she set to work on the outside lock immediately, crouching low to the ground as she stuck the file into the lock. A nail file wasn't the most conventional lock picking device,  _especially_  not on cars, but she knew a thing or two and, within a minute she had unlocked the car door. The shirt once trapped in its grasp fell pathetically to the asphault where Sun bent down to pick it up and dust it off before pulling it back on.

Velvet stood up, storing her file back in her bag and smiling with pride at the awestruck man.

"Where did you learn  _that_?"

She placed a slender finger to her lips and winked. "Secret, secret."

He had just begun thanking her when she looked down at her watch, biting her lip once she noticed the time. Five more minutes. Half the time already wasted.

She was definitely not going to make it.

The blonde noticed this and leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse at her face. "Late for something?"

"Yeah I was just trying to make it back to the shuttle station to take me back to campus but I'm nowhere near able to make it now." She lifted her head and shrugged. "But I might as well start heading that way now to make it for the next one." She made a move to walk past him towards the sidewalk but found her path blocked, her field of vision limited to his bare chest once more.

When she looked up, there was that dazzling smile again, except this time it was...real. Instead of filling her with annoyance it made it feel warmer,  _especially_  her facial region.

"Let me drive you! You could make it on time for sure!"

Giving no room for argument he nudged her toward his car, jumping into the driver seat and motioning for her to get in on the passenger side.

Normally Velvet would have a strict policy of not getting into a car with a stranger, but she  _did_ want to make it back to the station in time and this guy didn't seem  _all_  that bad, despite his horrible first impressions. Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it she hopped in after him, sitting in the passenger seat, bag in her lap. She didn't bother to buckle and neither did he, taking off speedily and leaving the parking lot with a loud screech of his tires.

They made it to the station with seconds to spare, the shuttle pulling up just as soon as they did and Velvet sighed in relief, thanking her lucky stars. Bed sweet bed here she comes.

Throwing open her door Velvet hopped out, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and kicking the door close with her foot. She began jogging to the overhang to board the bus, but hesitated at the last second. Turning on her heel she jogged back to the car, tapping on the window and motioning for the man to lower it. When he did, she offered him a sweet smile.

"I'm free this Friday. Seven o' clock. Meet me here?"

He smiled at her, but not one of his dazzling smiles. No, it was something much brighter and filled with joy. "Sounds great!"

Now with their plans secure, Velvet jogged back to the shuttle, only to pause again when she heard him shout after her.

"By the way! I'm Sun!"

The brunette threw a glance over her shoulder, waving her hand. "Velvet!" And without another delay she boarded the bus, letting it take her back to campus. From her window she watched the deep red of Sun's car pull away, travelling in the opposite direction of the shuttle, watching it as far as her eyes allowed her.

She thought of him all the way to her dorm, his brilliant smile following her into her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I got a bit lazy with this one. I was really struggling for an idea and I'm still trying to catch up - which now I have!
> 
> No promises for the rest of the week though. I'm rather busy.


	4. Larunda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just believe you have a right to your side of the story." // Mercury and Ozpin have a little chat after Mercury and Pyrrha’s match.

"Your match with Ms. Nikos today was rather impressive, Mercury."

The man addressed delivered another blow to the dummy in front of him, his heel landing right on its solar plexus. The dummy wobbled dangerously, tipping practically all the way back before snapping back up right, the weight at the bottom preventing it from falling completely over. Done with his kick, Mercury stood up straighter, gray eyes watching as the headmaster of Beacon strolled casually towards him, sipping a mug of steaming coffee.

The cane he held in his hand tapped lightly on the ground with each step, a mental note that Mercury stored away for later to report back to Cinder. He figured that it was his weapon, something every hunter and huntress kept on them at all times in case of emergency. The fact that he put no weight on it, merely swinging it to match his step tipped Mercury off that it was more than it appeared.

Besides, the coffee mug would've been a stretch.

Once they stood at a reasonable distance apart Ozpin stopped, taking another long sip of his coffee. Mercury patiently waited for him to finish, shoulders lax and overall demeanor rather bored. He hadn't come here to have a tea chat with the head honcho, but he figured that if he somehow managed to squeeze something out of him he might get more points with Cinder. And more points with Cinder meant pissing Emerald off.

So yeah. He could definitely spare a few moments of his time.

"However," Ozpin continued, brown eyes looking at him over those crooked glasses. "Glynda tells me you forfeited. Any particular reason why?"

Mercury scoffed and turned to deliver another kick to the dummy. "Wasn't in the mood to humiliate myself. The girl's tough, I gotta admit."

A humored smile made its presence known on Ozpin's lips. "And surrendering wasn't a humiliation?"

Mercury made another sweep at the dummy catching it in its side with the hook of his foot. Not immensely damaging, but enough to throw someone off kelter. And sometimes that was all you needed to gain the upper hand. Practice and experience had told him as much.

"I'd rather surrender and walk away in one piece with some of my dignity intact than get my ass beat like Team CRDL." He didn't mention that he probably wouldn't have suffered as much of a beat down as those four incompetent buffoons had, but he felt that insulting his students wouldn't bode well in earning his favor. And then he'd lose points. And Emerald would be in the lead.

The thought of her smug grin make him choke back his comment, offering instead a lackadaisical shrug and uncaring smile. Ozpin accepted them with grace, as Mercury noticed he did with most things, and briefly wondered what it took to tick this guy off.

He'd figure it out soon enough.

"I see," said Ozpin.

Assuming the conversation was over, Mercury turned his back on the headmaster and rose his leg to deliver a quick jab to the area of the throat. It was one of his favorite places to aim for because it caused maximum pain  _and_  crushed his opponent's windpipe, making them double back to regain air. And by that point he would already be on them, kicks hitting everywhere as they stood defenseless until he saw fit to finish them off. A sadistic grin played into his lips as he spun in place, his next kick aimed right for the side of its head.

"Tell me, Mercury, what exactly was it that caused you to run from home?"

His kick came to a screeching halt, the flat of his foot centimeters from the head of the dummy. Lowering it slowly he straightened back up but kept his gaze on the human-sized beat up doll. His fists pressed into the sides of his thighs and he kept his head low. The muscles in his shoulders tensed, the lower half of his jaw clenched, and it took all the self-control as well as a reminder of how furious Cinder would be if they messed up the plan now - right when they were so close - to keep himself in check.

"I don't ask to judge, Mercury," Ozpin began softly. "I've just heard a great deal about you through the grapevine."

(Of course he had. Mercury rolled his eyes and shook his head.)

"I just believe you have a right to your side of the story."

Mercury blinked, raising his head a fraction of an inch and giving the silver-haired hunter a sidelong glance. A quick analyzation of his features spoke of the genuinity behind his words. He didn't know whether to commend the man for his honesty or damn him for his naivety.

But either way, the man wanted him to talk and Mercury was more than happy to oblige. After all, his favorite topic was himself.

"My dad was a bit of a tyrant. Didn't really lack his attitude so I left. He didn't bother trying to find me as far as I know and honestly I think I'm better off for it." He gave a noncommittal shrug. "I don't know what you heard, but it's more than likely hype from some lame people with no lives. The real story ain't all that interesting."

That was a lie, of course, but Mercury knew better than to give too much of himself away to the enemy. To hand out sensitive information was to spell out one's own doom. The young criminal had learned that the hard way and would be sure  _not_  to make that same mistake for a second time.

And, though he wouldn't admit this, his past was certainly not a pleasant one to recall and not something he delved into often. In fact he avoided it when possible, doing anything and everything to leave it behind him. To focus on the now.

And right now, he was standing in one of Beacon's advanced training rooms, being interrogated casually by the headmaster himself.

Somehow he felt as if he had managed to slip up already, but kept his cool. From what he'd seen of this guy already, he wasn't exactly the prying type. He would make a terrible interrogator. But, lucky for Mercury, that just made his job easier. So no complaints there.

Ozpin took another sip of his coffee and tapped his cane against the floor rhythmically. "So I see." He then waved his mug carelessly, not an ounce of fear that in doing so would slosh around his drink, giving it the potential to spill out onto his hand. Mercury couldn't tell if the guy just didn't give a fuck or if he was just thoughtless.

Maybe a bit of both.

"Then I can rightfully assume that that is also the reason you enrolled in Haven in an attempt to get away from your father?"

Mercury nodded. "What can I say? Place called 'Haven'? Seemed like a perfect idea at the time."

"Indeed it does." Ozpin tilted his head and leaned forward on his cane. "And you enrolled alone?"

Dark gray eyes narrowed dangerously. He squared up with the light-haired professor, hands fisted at his sides once more. This guy...knew more than he was letting on. He was more of a threat than Mercury had previously thought and he inwardly cursed himself for letting his guard down around him. The guy was a headmaster of a renown hunters' academy for a reason, a fact that Mercury had easily forgotten in the midst of their conversation.

But he couldn't let him know that he was onto something. Let him believe what he wanted. After all, Mercury had dismissed them earlier as rumors. Maybe if he played it off well enough he'd regard this as one too.

Mercury cocked his head and smirked. "Well I certainly wasn't the only freshman that year, Sir."

Ozpin gave a low chuckle. "And that you weren't. Sorry if I upset you. Just curious is all." He downed the rest of his mug before giving out a slight smile. "I like to do my own research in the light of the upcoming tournament."

Mercury shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's no problem at all."

The headmaster accepted this answer with a nod and made a turn to leave, only pausing to throw back one last glance at Mercury.

"Mr. Black, if you ever find yourself in trouble - with your father of course - and need somewhere new to take refuge, you are more than welcome to come to Beacon." He then turned completely around, striding towards the door that would lead him out the room, the tapping of his cane falling into step with his footsteps. Mercury turned to resume what he was doing as well, placing a forceful kick to the dummy's stomach.

However, when Ozpin reached the door, he paused again and called out to him. Mercury paused in his workout, quirking an eyebrow. What could he want now?

"The girl is welcome as well."

And then he disappeared from sight, leaving without so much as a trace that he had ever been there.

No longer able to keep in his pent up frustration Mercury jumped up and spun in the air, straightening his leg just in time to make contact with the dummy's head. The force of the kick knocked it over, it's rounded surface bouncing off the floor and wobbling from side to side with excessive force. The gray-haired teen paid no attention to it though, his mouth set in a scowl and his hands shaking with fury.

 _How dare he bring_ her  _into this?_

How did he even know about her to begin with?

Was that what he meant by research? Did he know who Mercury really was and why he was really there? Did he know everything and just chose not to say it for some convoluted reason? Did he intend to watch them climb, only to stamp down on their operation and send them scurrying away, back to the underground?

Mercury didn't know the answer to any of these questions, something that only heightened his level of frustration. But there was one thing he  _did_  know.

The man was sly, able to slip under his radar before sucker punching him in the mouth.

And for that, he'd pay. Even if Mercury had to set fire to Beacon Academy himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one a little bit because I couldn't think of anything these two would have to talk about.
> 
> So I made up some shit. Gave Mercury a backstory roughly based off/totally ripped off of some Roman mythology. Since, ya know, his name kind of alludes to it.
> 
> Also, this will be getting a sequel! Not necessarily in this series, but I will be explaining further what happened with Mercury and why he ran away from his father, as well as reveal who this "girl" is (I know some of you might think it's Emerald and I promise you it is not).
> 
> So yeah! Be on the lookout for that sometime in the future!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first entry for RWBY Relationship Week! It's a tad bit late (I was super busy this weekend and simply did not have the time). But better late than never, right?
> 
> It was a bit difficult coming up with something for Sage since the guy hasn't had any screentime, but I think I did alright. If not, lemme know.
> 
> I'll try and get my 2nd and third entires up tomorrow, but no promises!!


End file.
